Searching for Spock
by Starlight Sprite
Summary: Chapter 4: It's been two years since Spock abruptly left the Enterprise, and the five year mission is coming to a close. But when a mysterious stranger sends a distress call, the Enterprise ends up in a difficult situation. Not slash. I don't own Star Trek. Please review!
1. Chapter 1

The _Enterprise_ circled in orbit around Earth, preparing to dock. It was midway through the five-year mission, and Captain Jim Kirk was supervising from the bridge chair while simultaneously finishing looking through personnel change entries. It seemed he'd been doing that a lot recently, he mused. The crew was always shifting and reshaping, and never were there more reassignments than at the midpoint of a five-year stint.

He was casually scrolling and noting changes when an entry near the bottom caught his eye.

 _Resignation (Pending): Commander Spock_

Jim did a double take, checking the entry again. Yes, that was what it said. But that couldn't possibly be right. It must be some kind of system error. Sure, Spock had been rather reclusive and thoughtful-looking the past few weeks, but definitely nothing to indicate a drastic change such as leaving the ship. The idea was almost ridiculous.

He didn't have to wonder long, because just then the doors whooshed open and the Vulcan in question entered the bridge.

"Hey Spock," Jim called, waving him over to his chair. "Look at this. I think we have a glitch." He showed him the padd.

Spock studied it for a second too long. "The entry is correct," he said, without expression.

Jim couldn't believe his ears. "Wait. What?"

"The entry is correct," Spock repeated flatly.

"You're – leaving? The ship. You're leaving the _Enterprise_?"

"Not the _Enterprise._ I am resigning from Starfleet."

"Wait, _why_?" Jim found himself saying, his voice rising a little. A few of the bridge crew had overheard and were staring. "What happened? Is something wrong?"

"Nothing has happened," Spock said. His voice was cold and clipped. "However, I have recently been meditating on my behavior aboard this ship, and I no longer think it a suitable place to remain."

"What are you even talking about?" Jim asked.

"You. Khan. The other people with whom I have been less than controlled. My actions have been less than Vulcan. More – intense – at times, than even a human. You have said so yourself."

"Spock, that was never what I meant. I never thought you should leave."

"I am fully aware of that. However, you were correct. These emotional – lapses are inappropriate. Unacceptable. I have come to the conclusion that the only option is to return to New Vulcan. To pursue _kolinahr_ at Gol."

" _Kolinahr_?"

"The purging of all emotion."

Jim sat stunned for a second. He cleared his suddenly tight throat. "But – what about us? The crew? Uhura? And what about _yourself_?"

"A first officer is replaceable," Spock said matter-of-factly. "And I have already settled the issue with Nyota. Lieutenant Uhura," he corrected himself. "And as for your last question, this _is_ myself."

"Spock," was all Jim could manage.

Spock walked away, up the stairs to the turbolift. He turned to face Jim, still sitting in shock, and before the doors closed in front of him he raised his hand in the Vulcan salute. His tone was carefully neutral as he said the traditional words, "Live long and prosper."


	2. Chapter 2

"I can't believe he would just leave like that," Jim admitted to McCoy, who sat across the table for him in the soft lighting of the bar in San Francisco. He took a gulp of his third Romulan ale of the evening, setting the glass down with a clink.

"He's a Vulcan," McCoy observed, studying the blue alcohol in his own glass. "Politeness isn't exactly his thing." He gave a short laugh. "Though apparently he's still not Vulcan enough in his opinion. No, he wants to become some kind of brainwashed computer or something." He took a sip, pursing his mouth before swallowing it. "Sounds healthy to me." The sarcasm in his voice was evident.

Jim let out a sigh. "I don't know, Bones," he said. "Usually I'd think Spock knows what he's doing, but I was never expecting this. Him leaving in the middle of the mission? I thought we were closer than that. As a crew."

McCoy looked thoughtful for a moment. "You know," he admitted, "I was actually considering leaving too, for a while. But I decided against it."

"You'd better not leave," Jim declared. "You don't have Spock's diplomatic immunity. I'd find a way to draft you."

"Draft me?" McCoy raised an eyebrow. "Since when did Starfleet ever have a draft?"

"I'd find something," Jim said, grinning confidently. He suddenly grew serious. "But no, really. Why were you going to leave? And what made you change your mind?"

McCoy snorted. "God knows living in a tin can in the middle of a black void isn't really my thing. But, then, I kind of realized that the _Enterprise_ is more of a home than anything I have on Earth. I figured I could live with space for a couple more years."

"Yeah, well, I guess I thought Spock thought about it more like that too," Jim said. He finished his drink in a gulp and got up for another one. He ordered a Scotch at the counter and brought it back to the table.

"Don't drink too much, Jim," McCoy warned him as he sat down, eying the glass. "We have the meetings with those admirals tomorrow morning, and I'm sure as hell not going to give you an anti-alcohol shot because you got yourself wasted over a Vulcan's lack of feeling."

"Don't worry, Bones, I'm never going to ask for one of your shots," Jim said with a smirk. Then, more seriously, staring into the amber liquid, "I'm fine."

McCoy harrumphed a bit at that, but said nothing. The two of them lapsed into a pensive silence.

Jim swirled the liquid in the glass and took a sip. It burned a little, which was fine by him. He set the glass down, glancing around the room. He noticed Uhura standing at the counter, and watched as she picked up her drink and turned, scanning the room for a seat. He waved her over.

"The girls were too busy to come, but I needed a drink anyway," Uhura announced as she plunked down at their table. She took a long pull at her Saurian brandy.

"I'm sure they'll come another evening, we have a few days of shore leave yet," McCoy assured her. He gave her an appraising look. "You ok?

"Ok?" Uhura snorted. "I'm pissed."

"How did that even go down?" Jim asked. "With Spock. If you don't mind me asking. I mean, with us – well, it wasn't much of a goodbye."

"Mine wasn't much better," she said. "He just went on about the _kolinahr_ thing and how he couldn't stay, and how he couldn't be in a relationship during it anyway." She shook her head. "He dumped me just like that."

"I'm sorry," McCoy said. "That sucks."

Uhura sighed. "I mean, we had problems for a while. We were fighting before Khan – you two knew about that. And it got better after we had that whole talk back then in the shuttlecraft. But even later, after the nebula incident – I feel like he didn't really understand me. And, I don't know, maybe our relationship was doomed from the start. We hadn't been dating long before the _Narada_ happened, and Vulcan was destroyed – we got a lot closer after that, but maybe that was just because he was, as he put it 'emotionally compromised.' Maybe I was just a rebound – for Vulcan." She laughed a little as she finished her brandy. "I don't know if that even makes sense. Sorry for the rant, guys."

"It's ok," Jim said. "I get it."

"Well, Jim and I should head out pretty soon," McCoy said to Uhura, glancing at the chronometer on the far wall. "Early morning admiralty meetings, all that lovely stuff. You ready to go?"

"Not even close," she said. "But you go ahead."

"Ok then," McCoy said, standing. "Jim?"

"Yep, coming," Jim finished his Scotch and stood up.

Scotty, who had just entered the bar, meandered over. "You people staying a while?"

"We're not," McCoy told him. "But Uhura is."

"Well, can I buy you a drink, lass?" Scotty asked her.

Uhura hesitated a moment, then nodded. "You know what? Sure. Thank you."

"My pleasure," he said. He nodded to Jim and McCoy. "See you tomorrow, sir. Doctor."

"You too, Scotty. Good night, Uhura," said Jim.

"Good night, she responded. McCoy nodded to both of them, and he and Jim headed towards the door.

They exited into the chilly drizzle of the San Francisco night, and walked in silence across the street to their hotel.

"Try to get some sleep, Jim," McCoy advised once they were inside and on the hallway where both of their rooms were.

"I will," Jim promised. "There's just – a call I have to make first."

McCoy's brow furrowed a little but he didn't press the issue. "Goodnight, then," he said.

"Goodnight, Bones," Jim said. He unlocked the old-fashioned door, but before going inside he turned. "Oh, and Bones?" he said.

"What?" asked McCoy, stopping with hand poised on his doorknob.

"I know you care about him too."

McCoy looked about to retort, but before he got a chance, Jim swung open his door and went inside his room.


	3. Chapter 3

Once in his hotel room, Jim settled at the desk in front of the computer screen. He took a deep breath and then made the call. It was answered a moment later.

"Ambassador Spock," he said.

"Greetings, James," the Vulcan replied. Jim couldn't help but notice the ambassador's increasingly snow-white hair and weary expression. He looked older than even the last time Jim had spoken to him. However, he seemed pleasantly surprised by the call. Then, though, his subtle expression changed to one of concern as he noticed Jim's furrowed brow.

"Is everything alright?" he asked.

Jim looked down at his hands, twisting in his lap. "It's Spock," he confessed. "I mean, this timeline's Spock." He paused, then looked directly at the screen. "He left for Gol."

The ambassador's eyebrow raised. This was obviously significant to him. "I see," he said.

"Yeah," Jim said, looking back down. "I don't know. I mean, he was kind of quiet for a few weeks, and then he just went on about emotional control and – " He trailed off, then blurted, "It was so sudden. He barely even said goodbye. To me. To Uhura. McCoy. Any of us. He just – left." Jim felt hot tears on his eyelids, and he unsuccessfully tried to scrub them away. "I'm sorry."

"There is no need to apologize," the ambassador said gently. He waited for Jim to calm down.

"I'm sorry," Jim said again after a minute, "I didn't mean to do that. It's been a rough day." He quickly wiped his nose. "So what is this _kolinahr_ exactly, anyway?" he asked. "Spock didn't give many details."

"Almost all Vulcans strive for emotional control," the ambassador explained. " _Kohlinahr_ is the highest level of that control. The – postulants, as it were, go to train at Gol, or rather its equivalent on New Vulcan. They are taught by the Vulcans who have already attained _kohlinahr -_ the purging of all emotion."

"What happens then?" Jim asked. "After it's completed."

"That varies, but many Vulcans stay at Gol, training others in the pursuit of logic."

"Stay for how long? For life?"

"Yes."

"So - I could never see Spock again," Jim said.

"It is possible," the ambassador allowed. Jim sat still a moment, trying to let that sink in and not really succeeding.

"I just don't understand why he's doing this," he said finally.

"Given Spock's emotional history, it is not a completely unexpected course of action for him to take."

Jim took a deep breath. "But – you didn't."

"I have taken a vow of silence regarding my past," the ambassador said carefully. "This Spock is his own person, and will make his own choices. However, assumptions about my timeline are - unwarranted. _Kohlinahr_ is not irreversible once started. It is not permanent until conclusion."

"I see," Jim said, a glimmer of hope in his curiosity.

"Spock is doing what he needs to do at this time," the ambassador stated. "However, there are other aspects to be considered. There still remains the question of the _Enterprise._ Until then – "

"The mission must continue," Jim guessed.

The ambassador gave a slight nod. "Whatever decision Spock reaches will likely take time. You should not wait to continue your life until then."

Jim breathed out. "It's going to be so weird," he said, halfway to himself. He cleared his throat. "But – I understand. Thank you for talking with me. It's straightened things out a lot."

"The pleasure is mine, James," the ambassador said.

Jim nodded. "Well, thanks. I should probably go. Admiral meetings tomorrow morning, all that stuff. Bones will kill me if I don't get some sleep."

"I understand," the ambassador said, with what might have been the smallest quirk at the corner of his mouth. "Goodnight, James."

"Goodnight, sir."

"And, James," the ambassador said. "I have, as I said, taken a vow of silence. But if you were to come across a – logic problem, during the remainder of your mission. The kind that only I could answer. Do not hesitate to contact me. I would be pleased to assist you."

"I see," Jim said, with a slight smirk as he understood the subtext of _I will save your butts if my younger self isn't there to do it_. "Thank you, I appreciate it. I might have to take you up on that sometime."

"You are welcome, James." Ambassador Spock held up his hand in the farewell _ta'al_. "Live long and prosper."

"Live long and prosper," Jim replied, and then cut the channel.


	4. Chapter 4

_Two years later…_

Jim strode onto the bridge from the turbolift, pausing a moment to survey the room and the crewmembers working at their stations. He'd been on this ship for five years, he thought. He shook his head as he walked down the steps. That was so weird. He still couldn't wrap his mind around it.

He felt himself falling into a contemplative state as he settled into his chair, something that had been happening more and more often as the mission was coming to a close. All things considered, it had been a pretty good five years. But, a small but persistent part of him felt, maybe a little…underwhelming.

Sure, it hadn't been quite the same since – well, since halfway through the mission. But that hadn't been a problem, really. The crew had adjusted, managing the reassignments quite well. In time, it had become strange to remember that anyone other than Scotty had ever been first officer. But somewhere along the way, it seemed that the _Enterprise_ had slipped into the background of Federation affairs. There were never any issues. No failures he could pinpoint. The _Enterprise_ 's accomplishments had always been adequate. But somehow they didn't quite feel worthy of a Starfleet flagship.

Jim shook that thought from his mind with a pang of guilt. That wasn't fair - he had a good crew. He really couldn't complain.

His thoughts were interrupted by Uhura. "Sir, I'm picking up a distress call."

Well, that was the first interesting thing that had happened in a while. "Where from?" he asked, swiveling his chair to face her.

"It seems to be coming from a small planetoid – near where Vulcan used to be."

"Can you contact them?"

"I tried. No response."

"Are there any other ships in the area?"

"None, sir."

"Well, I guess it's up to us then. Send the coordinates to navigation." Jim swiveled his chair back around. "Chekov, how far away are we from the planetoid?"

Chekov clicked some buttons on his console. "Ve could be there in – one hour, sir. At varp six."

"Warp six it is then. Set a course," Jim said. "Let's see what this is about."

An hour later, they veered into orbit around the grayish-brown planetoid. "I've pinpointed the distress call's source," Uhura. "It's coming from a small island near the middle continent. The area is barely even populated."

"Send the coordinates to the transporter room," Jim said. "Uhura, you're with me. We'll get McCoy and beam down to investigate the situation."

"Aye sir," said Uhura. "Coordinates sent."

"Mr. Sulu, you have the chair," Jim said, as the two of them stepped into the turbolift.

McCoy met them in the transporter room as they were gearing up. "Do you have any idea what this is about?" he asked.

"Nope," Jim said. "Could be anything."

"Lovely," McCoy said, picking up a phaser and communicator, which he added to his belt along with his medical tricorder.

Jim stepped onto the transporter pad, joined by the other two. "Energize," he told the chief.

They materialized on the drab, marshy surface of the island. Jim scanned the area. It seemed surprisingly deserted at first, but then he noticed a small cabin a short distance away, its grayish wood blending into the surroundings.

"There's a bio sign coming from that building," McCoy said, looking at his scanner.

Jim nodded, and the three of them headed towards the cabin. They had almost reached it when a tall humanoid man, wearing nondescript clothing, exited.

"Excuse me," Jim called. The man turned to face them. Jim noted the pointed ears that even his long brown hair and beards couldn't hide. A Vulcan, then.

"I'm Captain Kirk of the _U.S.S. Enterprise_ ," Jim said as they reached the cabin. "Did you send a distress call?"

"The _Enterprise_?" the man asked with active curiosity. "Excellent." His face broke into a shockingly incongruous smile that set off red alert klaxons in Jim's head.

Jim whipped out his phaser. "He's a Romulan," he warned, pointing it at the stranger. "Are there other people you're holding here? Who sent the call?"

"Calm down, Captain," the man said. "There's no one else here. I sent the distress call."

"How did you get here?" Jim demanded, keeping his phaser trained unwaveringly on the stranger. "You're in Federation space."

The stranger heaved an enormous sigh. "Contrary to your assumption, I'm not a Romulan. Not all Vulcans are as repressive of emotion as you may think." He gestured to McCoy. "Your scanner should show that."

McCoy checked his tricorder. "His bio signs are, in fact, Vulcan," he admitted.

Jim slowly lowered his phaser and clipped it on his belt, though he maintained his wary stance. "Who are you, then? And why did you send the distress call?"

"My name is Sybok," the stranger said. "And I needed transportation."

"What do you mean, you needed transportation?"

"I sensed a presence in space," Sybok said simply.

"A presence?"

"A great – consciousness, if you will. A being traveling through space. And I must find it."

"What does the _Enterprise_ have to do with any of this?"

"A starship is the only kind of ship that travels fast enough."

Jim held up a hand, confused. "Wait, hold on. You want to use our starship as a ferry? You'd better give me a really damn good reason first. I mean, what's so important about this consciousness, anyway?"

"It's rather – difficult to explain," Sybok said. "With words, at least." He gestured to Uhura. "This is your communications officer?"

Jim nodded, unsure where this was going. Sybok raised a hand toward Uhura's face. "May I?" he asked her. She looked over to Jim questioningly, and after a moment's hesitation he nodded his approval.

"Go ahead," she told Sybok. She stood still as he placed his hand on her psi points to initiate the meld. Jim watched as his eyes closed slightly as he concentrated. Jim then watched Uhura's face, shifting through a range of emotions including concentration, surprise, confusion, and then an abrupt flicker of hurt and regret. Suddenly she pulled away with a gasp.

"What the hell was that?" she demanded.

"That was part of the meld," he said calmly.

"No," she said, shaking her head in confusion, looking almost betrayed. "You said you were going to tell me about the consciousness. Only the consciousness. Not – that you were going to look through my past relationships! My _failed_ relationships. All of them. Failed. And you dragged me through them. That _hurt_."

"I did what was necessary," he said.

Uhura ignored him. "But you know what?" she said, looking thoughtful. "You're right. I didn't realize that. Or I'd stopped realizing it. It's not over. I _can_ find love again."

"Lieutenant?" Jim, asked sharply. "What is going on?"

Uhura turned to face him. "He's right," she said. "We have to go after the consciousness."

"Explain," he said.

She shook her head. "There's nothing to explain, really. Sybok knows what he's talking about."

"You're going to have to tell me more than that."

"Are you going to help or not?" Uhura asked.

"I don't know that - " he began. Suddenly he found himself looking down the barrel of Uhura's phaser.

"Whoa, hold on a second," McCoy exclaimed, taking a step forwards, at the same time as Jim demanded, "Sybok, what did you do? Are you controlling her?"

"I'm not controlling anybody, Captain," Sybok said calmly. "I merely showed her the consciousness, while meanwhile discovering her secret pain."

"What are you talking about?" Jim demanded. "Uhura?"

"He's right," Uhura said, locking eyes with him. "Now, call for beam-up."

"You know I can't do that, not like this," Jim stated.

McCoy spoke up. "Look, Uhura, I don't know what he did inside your head, but don't listen to it or - "

"Doctor," Uhura said warningly, and he fell quiet. There was a tense pause.

"You don't have to do this," Jim tried.

"I'm sorry, Jim," Uhura said, looking genuinely regretful. And then she shot him.


End file.
